Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 174: Outbreak

The sudden, instantaneous feeling of having several hostile intentions lance into his awareness almost cost Leif the fight. Him hesitating to retaliate, unsure as to the identity of his assailants almost got him killed.

Almost.

As a spear of crackling lightning punched through his chest, he didn’t feel pain, but the strike staggered him back a step. The shaft of the weapon was metal, every inch of its surface lined with glowing red runes. The ground beneath his right foot turned to mud, and he slipped down, almost losing his footing. A shower of black needles flashed for his head, easily piercing the golden shield he conjured to protect himself.

A whip of fire came in from the side, shattering the already weakened shield and burning a gash through his clothes. A beam of brilliant red blight impacted his sternum, and thankfully had seemingly no effect. Then a haze of nightmarish sights drowned his vision, leaving him mentally reeling, his aura control unbalanced and weak. Several more attacks came a heartbeat later, but against any normal opponent the initial offensive would have been enough. The squad of assailants seemed to think so as well, because even as the follow up barrage fell down onto Leif, one of their members jetted forward, churning white water splashing out behind him as he blurred towards Leif with incredible speed. His fist was wreathed in water, and a cruel, triumphant grin spread across his cracked lips.

So when his strike connected with Leif’s chest, the man had an instant to realise that he had just made a massive mistake. In that instant his fingers broke, wrist shattered and forearm fractured. His look of elation shifted to one of confusion, then horrified agony as he looked up into blazing golden eyes. Then Leif’s masked face caved the man’s skull in, the wood splintering and bone dissolving under the force of the headbutt reverberating through the mist-covered landscape.

The unarmed combatant, likely a [Brawler] of some kind, died, but a hand of gold reached out and grabbed him by the throat. Blood rushed down and through the conjured limb, vitality, already fading from the moment of death flowing into Leif, refilling his cultivation. It wasn’t as much as the Scion would have expected, but his cultivation skill had just upgraded, his maximum capacity would be far greater than it had been before. As the myriad of wounds all over his body began to heal, Leif took an awkward step forward, and vanished in a streak of golden light.

He didn’t go far, barely twenty metres. But it was enough to disappear into the chaotically swirling mist. The muffled sound of shouts and curses drifted through the frigid air, the words lethargic, smothered.

“Is that a Blade?” One of the attackers called, it seemed to be the individual with the flaming whip. Somebody replied, their voice panicked, though the exact words were lost.

“Whoever they are, they must be critically injured. Go! Find them! You all have your orders, don’t let a single one escape!”

As the group chorused an agreement, Leif burst out of the mist from the opposite direction they had seen the golden light disappear towards. The stone beneath his feet shattered as he kicked off, a forest of amber arms snaking out to strike at every vague outline he could make out through the mist. Leif could sense them, the subtle outlines of their presences like pinpricks on his awareness, and he knew they weren’t looking in the right direction to stop his counter attack.

This was not a game. This group had come at him without hesitation, the intention to kill had been so sharp it had almost blinded him. But they didn’t know who he was, and that meant they could realistically only be from a handful of places. Either this was another faction within the empire, or more likely, some sort of invasion from the republic. If it was the latter, and as he got a closer look at their appearances and dress, he grew more confident that it was, then he had already fought and killed their kind before. Leif had killed the two republic agents in the caverns below Klos. He had regretted the necessity, but not the action.

He reminded himself of that as his fist crushed a man’s rib cage, the shock of the blow stopping his heart. He ignored the spike of fear and alarm as another hand grabbed a woman by the ankle, lifting her up off the ground before slamming her down into the stone ground. A golden arm ripped a sword from one of the invaders, and then pinned one of their comrades against a nearby boulder with the weapon. Every punch shattered bones, every strike stealing life and turning it to golden power. The spear wielder's head was crushed into the ground, another’s legs were broken, then their stomach was pierced by a sharpened limb. Ten seconds later everything was silent, the essence of skill constructs bleeding into the swirling mist. Broken bodies littered the ground, blood and viscera coated every available surface, and that was after most of the invader’s life-force had been absorbed. Leif let out a hissing breath, his body was burning hot from stolen vitality, and the air heated around him, forcing back the chill.

The half broken painted mask flew up into his hand from where it had fallen, and he smoothed out its surface with [Wood Manipulation]. Leif’s clothes were torn, scorched and covered in blood, but he didn’t have time to change. Nor did he have the intention to do so. If he was right, there would be more violence to come. The scion rewound time with [Sympathy From Experience], he found the direction he had been walking in before the abrupt confrontation, then sprinted back towards the Dimid campus.

===

A sound like rolling thunder passed over the expansive plaza’s of Pellus as war broke out on the island. The ground shook, and the surroundings lit up with a hundred different colours as skills were unleashed. Roy clung to Lucia’s neck, trembling with terror, his eyes scrunched shut. She couldn’t blame him for being scared, because she felt the exact same thing.

Responsibility straightened her spine and firmed her resolve, and even as her legs burnt and heart tightened in fear as the sound of fighting drew closer she kept running towards the portal hub. The battle had started instantaneously and without warning, groups of armoured humans suddenly appearing all over the island, each instantly turning and attacking whoever was the closest.

The response from those capable of fighting was quick, but the sheer ferocity and unexpected nature of the attack had put the Academy’s defenders on the back foot. A squad of dark uniformed guards sprinted by her and Roy, they shot her a glance, but didn’t stop. She let them get out of sight, then ran in the other direction once the sound of combat started up from where they had gone.

Mist rolled over the nearby buildings, but it was inconsistent in density. Occasionally, Lucia could make out distant structures, and she used those opportunities to reorientate towards the hub.

“We’re almost there.” She said to Roy. “Another hundred or so metres. Can you hold on until then?”

“Y-yes.” He whispered, increasing the strength of his grip.

“Okay, take a deep breath and stay calm. We’ll be fine Roy, we’ve already survived worse.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Yeah.”

Lucia followed her own advice, then took off down the wide street. Bodies littered the road, but she didn’t stop to look at them. Too many wore the Academy’s uniform, though many did not. The ground shook again, then a multi-storied building to their right exploded, a figure clad in glowing green energy blasting through one of the walls, chunks of carved stone flying in every direction. The figure, a man, stood, blood streaked down his face, and one eye was matted shut. He brushed off his shoulders as if being launched through a building didn’t bother him at all.

Malevolently glowing green eyes turned to Lucia and Roy, and an axe of the same colour manifested in the man’s hand, liquid dripping off the blade and splashing to the ground with a sharp sizzling sound. He casually raised the weapon, a rippling wave of acidic energy covering the distance between him and them in a second. Lucia threw herself to the side, both she and Roy tumbling across the street in an uncontrolled roll. She looked up, panic seizing her as she saw a second wave of glowing green power already heading towards where they had landed.

The air screamed, and a shimmering gale of wind ripped past her. The skill that had been moments away from wiping both Lucia and her brother out parted, the energy devouring stone and melting through walls, but it didn’t harm either of them. A second air elemental dove down from above, kicking up a cloud of dust as it slammed into the emerald clad man. He screamed in anger, rather than pain, as blades of wind cut into him, doing little damage but sending him flying back.

“Blade!” He roared, lashing out at the elemental with his axe, destroying it.

As if in response to his words, a woman appeared before Lucia and Roy, then her blurred form blasted past them as she took another step. She reappeared next to the man, then the air cracked, and another building exploded as he was launched through it.

An instant later both were gone. Both siblings were left coughing and spluttering, sprawled between two lines of melted cobblestone.

“Which Blade was that?” Roy asked, blinking rapidly.

“Sabline, I think.” Lucia replied, dazed. Then she clapped her hands against her cheeks, snapping her out of her shock. She scrambled over to Roy, checking him over for wounds. She let out a sigh when she saw that he was mostly fine.

“Which number was she again?” Roy asked.

“I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. Let’s go before either comes back.”

===

War sucked. That wasn’t a controversial opinion, but Marcus couldn’t help but reflect on its accuracy. It didn’t help when one side of a conflict seemed magically compelled to do as much damage as possible. And it was likely that they were, he had first hand experience with the penal battalions of the republic when he was a boy, and it had been an episode he had never wanted to repeat. And yet here he was, on the other side of the Rien, facing down a group that had haunted his childhood. At least this time he had… not exactly friends, Marcus didn’t really know any of the students, faculty or guards he was fighting alongside. Allies. Allies who shared the same goal as him. Survival.

Blackened fingers, each the size of his arm, reached around the corner of a nearby apartment complex, burning orange criss-crossed each stone digit. The building cracked, and the… whatever it was lumbered into sight. Mist churned and burnt away from the sheer heat the creature was exuding, and the stone beneath its feet melted into pools of sticky lava with every step.

Marcus and everyone else in the group he was fighting with turned to look at the thing in unison. It roared, its jagged mouth stretching, the world shaking with the tremendous volume of the sound. Several people fell, clutching their ears, others passed out on the spot. Marcus raised a hand to the side of his head, and it came away wet. He grimaced, then blasted a bolt of purple lightning at the hulking form that slowly approached. The skill did absolutely nothing.

“Yeah. I’m probably dead.” The [Seeker] said aloud. Someone nearby screamed, probably in agreement. Then a ball the size of his fist streaked out of the mist, the object burning with a brilliant golden light. It smashed into the being of blackened stone and oozing flame, then exploded into a hundred twisting and writhing branches.

Marcus blinked, then slumped against the ground. The monster, construct, whatever, roared again as the violently expanding wood blasted its exterior into a thousand smouldering chunks. It fell into a fountain, steam blasting in every direction. A hand clasped Marcus on the shoulder, and he looked up.

Then he looked down.

The [Arcanist] winced. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Leif replied. “You too.” Then he sprinted towards the slowly recovering titan.

===

The edges of Leif’s clothes burnt away as he punched through the chest of the rock and magma shell. He could sense the living being hiding within, like a beating heart for the monstrosity who’s very presence turned stone into molten slag. His [Amber Aegis] flared up with every inch his fist drove into the thing’s superheated form, the sole of his boots catching fire.

Leif reached back, then slammed his fist back down into the thing’s chest, and its rocky exterior shattered. His fingers wrapped around something soft and fleshly, then he ripped it out with every ounce of strength and physical power his compressed body could muster. What ejected from the molten shell was a head, spine and part of the upper torso of a now very dead human man. Leif threw the corpse to the ground, the body of rock the invader had been using for protection crumbling apart.

Purple light flashed behind him, and the Scion turned to see Marcus channelling a surge of violet arcane power into an armoured figure that was sprinting towards him, and the still recovering students who were yet to get to their feet. A black clad Academy guard stepped into the charging individual's way, and the two exchanged a flurry of blows as steel rang against steel. Leif took a step, blurring back to where Marcus stood panting and sweating.

A golden shield flickered around the guard as a sword strike almost took off her arm. The guard took advantage of the opening, plunging her blade between a gap in the invaders armour. Silver light flashed, and the guard’s sword snapped in half, her attack blocked by some sort of skill. She rolled to the side, catching a savage wound in her neck, and then a projected fist sent the armoured figure flying, their broken body twisting in the air as they flew back into the mist.

Leif grabbed the guard as she tried to stand, healing her, not with any skill, but inelegantly pushing vitality into her body. She gasped, her grip around his forearm, a reflexive defensive motion she had made when he grabbed her, tightening in surprise. Her pain filled gaze cleared, and she gasped out her thanks. The guard narrowed her eyes, but before her gratitude could fully turn to suspicion, Leif had already spun and marched off.

He wasn’t sure if that guard in particular had been sent to hunt him down, but getting as much distance as possible couldn’t hurt. “Marcus.” Leif said. “Where is the portal hub?”

“Uh, over there. I think.” His friend said, gesturing vaguely to their left.

“You think? Are you sure?”

“Not at all. Shall we go anyway?” An explosion of bright pink light lit up the mist in the direction he had pointed. “Uh, actually I was wrong. The portal hub is over there.”

“Come, let's go, quickly.” Leif said, ignoring him.

“I really don’t want to. I felt whatever that pink light was scrape against my mind like nails against a chalkboard.”

Leif heard a groan of complaint come from the man, but he was already gone, running towards the light. It didn’t take him long to find the source of the skill. A woman in flowing black robes danced through a crowd of writhing bodies, vivid pink light snaking from the mouths and eyes of her victims. She cackled, raising a hand, causing every single one of the spasming forms laying around her to violently jerk in that direction, the smoke escaping from their orifices moving in tandem with her gesture.

He ran forward, summoning a compressed javelin of wood out of his spatial ring. He stepped into the throw and launched the projectile, sending it tearing through the air. The dancing woman stopped, her head snapping in his direction. She snapped her fingers, and one of her still living victims lurched to their feet, stumbling into the path of the javelin. Leif tightened his [Willpower], reaching out and urging the projectile to veer upwards using [Wood Manipulation]. It worked, just, the hair on the student’s head rustling with the javelin’s close passing.

The thaumaturge thrust a hand out towards him, pink smoke leaping from the eye sockets of those around her to surge forwards with inevitable and slithering maliciousness. The javelin fell in an arc behind the caster, and as it did Leif spoke.

“Return.”

It did, right through the mage’s gut. A golden hand caught her corpse before it hit the ground, another having already grabbed the javelin as he mentally commanded it to return to his spatial ring. Life-force flowing into Leif, then back into the students who littered the street. A single amber limb conjured from [Gold Iron Physique] snapped out to touch each and every one of them, then he used [Surge of Life and Growth] through each limb in turn, breaking contact the instant he felt like the healing would be enough.

“What do you need me for?” Marcus asked as he jogged up besides Leif.

“Directions.”

“... And moral support?”

“Where are we going?”

“That way, maybe three or four hundred metres. I think, this mist is playing havoc with my abilities. I don’t remember the mist ever being this bad. It didn’t use to do this, or it wasn’t anywhere near as debilitating.”

Leif nodded, swatted an arrow out of the air as he sensed hostile intent build up behind him. Then sent the arrow back the way it had come, the archer falling over a second later. “Let’s go.”